In his dream, the neighbor dipped his face against the curve where Justin’s neck met his shoulder and kissed him there, and his beard was soft and scratchy at the same time and Justin whimpered and moaned as he melted into the sensation.
“That’s it,” the neighbor crooned. “I’ve got you.”
Justin learned back, pushing his ass against the hardness of the neighbor’s erection. He was buzzing with sensation, every nerve in his body simultaneously numb and alight. He felt like he was drunk, or high. He wanted to turn around, to face the man, to kiss him, but a part of him knew that would break the spell, and Justin wanted to live here in this fantasy for as long as possible. He moaned, the noise made thin and thready with desperation.
“That’s it, baby,” the neighbor said his breath hot against Justin’s throat. “I’ll give you what you need.”